Storm Writer
by Greentreetall
Summary: Storm Writer: Noun - a person who generates raw electric energy that creates storms.


**S.M owns the characters.**

**Mistakes are my own.**

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"Have you heard?"

I don't turn as he approaches me.

"Yes" I answer and twirl my finger at my side.

"Will you go downtown to see her?"

"No," I shake my head as warmth trails my palm.

"You knew her better then anyone" he reminds me "it should be you."

"Maybe at one time," I agree. "But he's the better choice now."

He sighs as he comes into view "Damn" he mutters, "I can't imagine what he's feeling right now."

I hum as I turn my head to watch the river move before me, the heat weaving through the bones of my hand.

For a moment we breathe the silence.

"Have you talked to him?"

I don't answer as I watch the moons growing light dye the black water.

"Bella?"

"No" I murmur, "I haven't."

"Will you then?"

I shake my head "No, I don't imagine I will."

"He's hurting too," he says and I frown.

"I am aware."

"Then shouldn't you go and comfort him?"

"No" I say.

"He lost his Walker" his voice is gentle.

"Yes" I mutter, "he did."

"He'll need someone to talk to."

"He'll find someone" my voice is harder then I mean it to be as I release the heat into the air.

I can hear him sigh as he moves to stand beside me.

"You are acting irrationally."

"Perhaps."

I can hear the wind roar as it whips through the tunnel, bring the city with it in heavy warm waves.

"It's growing" he remarks and I nod.

"I started early."

"The last one was disappointing," he accuses and I tilt my head, my back pressed against the stone supports of the bridge.

"That is a matter of opinion."

"And tonight?"

I shrug, tipping my head up towards the arching stone above us.

"Anarchy."

He chuckles, his excitement vibrating through my bones.

"It'll be beautiful" he says and presses his shoulder against mine.

"Will you be careful?" I ask as I lift my hand into the air.

"I'll be at the eye" he smiles, his lips pulling over his perfect teeth.

"You could die." _Like the others. _

"I haven't yet" he shrugs and pulls at the cigarettes lodged in his front pocket.

"Someday your luck could run out" I mutter, twisting my fingers.

"We all die, love" he smiles sadly between the filter.

"I know" I whisper, my eyes trailing the cracks of light.

"Look at me" he turns on his shoulder and faces me, his finger sliding around my chin and pulling my face to his eyes "Are you okay?"

"This may come as a surprise, but I don't exactly like thinking about you dying" I mutter, pulling my face from his grip and pushing off the wall.

"You getting soft on me?" he teases and I scoff.

"Please."

For a moment he pauses before chuckling "I'll be fine," he says and I nod.

"I'll meet you in the eye" I mutter and move my feet to walk away.

"Hey Bell," he shouts, his smile weaving into his words "wear something revealing, I love the way your skin lights up."

"Careful Em," I warn "or I'll tell your wife."

"She understands!" he laughs and I shake my head.

"_No_ one is that understating."

_**xxx**_

People avoid me.

They always avoid us.

We're walking currents.

Live energy.

I move down the street, the crowds parting as the smell of the storm begins to fill the air.

They glare at me. Their eyes don't meet mine; they watch my fingers as they twist. They mutter as I move past. Angry at me for ruining their plans, their nights out they had been looking forward to.

I don't apologize. Not anymore.

They don't care; don't understand, don't want to. And I don't want them to.

Not anymore.

They call me names, and I let them move over me.

Ugly names.

But they're my names.

And I own them as I move.

I snap my fingers; watch the light crackle across the sky, tinting the angry black clouds above us.

I know he will be there when I round the corner.

I can feel him.

The pain that laces his flux.

I hate the way it chokes me. Strangles me from within and twists my stomach.

I am angry with him.

For too many reasons.

I hate him for what he did to me.

What he did to her.

I want to hurt him. To drown him in the sickness that swirls in my chest.

Thunder explodes through the city as I turn the corner, electricity lifting from my scalp and cutting the black night.

I am running to high.

To much filters through my head and I'm spiralling out of control.

I know I am. I can feel the way my anger eats at my restraints.

I know I am a danger. But I move towards him anyways.

His face is down as he sits on my steps, his shoulder hunched and shaking.

Wind pulls from around me, the heated air wrapping my body before it escapes me and whips at his bare skin. I watch him flinch. Watch him raise his head and meet my eyes.

"You need to leave," I mutter as I move closer to him.

Eyes that haunt me, ones that burn me, twist me and made me, fix my shaking hands in his gaze.

"You're Writing," he frowns. "How long?"

I push past him, the hair on my arms rising as his current brushes me. "Doesn't concern you."

"You're unstable" he says and begins to follow me.

"Fuck off" I mutter as I walk away from my apartment.

I watch the streetlights as they fluctuate when I near, the sounds of cars howling and people cursing at my back.

"You've gone to far," he snaps at me as I dig into my pocket and drop my useless phone into the garbage. "You need to ground."

"Don't tell me what to do," I murmur over my shoulder at him as the wind begins to fill the hollows between the buildings.

"What is wrong with you?" he shouts over the howl. "You're going to hurt people!"

"Yes" I agree, "I imagine I will."

I move around the stumbling feet of the crowds as they hurry for shelter.

"Isabella!" he shouts, his voice ripping in the wind. "This isn't what she would have wanted!"

I stop and turn to meet his eyes. "How would you know, Edward?" I ask, cocking my head "She's dead."

Thunder roars around us, booming as lights snap in the air. I turn away and move down the street away from the screams of people.

Away from him.

_**Xxx**_

I can hear him laughing.

"Anarchy!" he sweeps his arms in the air and throws his head back, catching the rain on his smiling face. "It's beautiful, B." he looks at me "A real masterpiece."

Energy skips along my wet skin as I twist my fingers, pulling the wind around us and throwing the rushes into the air.

Torrents fall from the angry night, the sky crying with me. I drop my head back and pull the light across the air, rubbing the thunder into the chaos.

I can feel the cry as it builds in my throat. The sound brewing until it slips from my lips and fills the air; the wail slithers along my skin and I choke on the pain that lives in my lungs.

I scream against the pressure, the tears falling from my face and drowning my mind.

I want to shout how unfair it is.

How much I ache and bleed.

And I want to understand why it had to happen.

Why it had to be this way.

I want answers.

To my pain.

To the questions that fill my broken body.

But nothing comes.

Nothing ever comes.

I can feel as something grips my shoulders and pulls me down but I'm gone, sinking into the storm.

"I'll Walk you through it" he murmurs as the electricity mounts and the world breaks around us.

My Walker.

My friend.

My everything.

My nothing.

I want to tell him not to worry. To be safe. To go home to his wife and be happy. To leave me behind.

Leave me in my pain.

But he won't.

Because a Walker doesn't abandon you.

They stay.

Even if it kills them.

A Walker never leaves.

But a Writer, they _always _leave.

_**Xxx**_

It's easy to love a Walker.

They understand you.

They know what you're feeling and they can fix it.

But it's hard to love a Writer

Walkers stay because we are addictive.

They can't live without the rush. They need it and we can give it to them.

But we are unpredictable.

And we hurt people.

A Walker can love another Walker.

They know the feeling.

The craving and they understand the need for it.

But a Writer cannot love another Writer.

We don't work.

We clash.

We are all energy.

No clam.

Just storm.

Eventually, no matter how hard you try, one of you will give up.

Because it's easy to love a Walker and too hard to love a Writer.

_**xxx**_

When I wake, I am alone.

I can hear them muttering outside my door.

Pointless words of worry as they debate what to tell me.

Sighing, I pull my hands from under the heavy blanket and stare at the webbed black lines that flow up my arms.

Electric burns mar my skin and char my pale fingers.

"You didn't die" he sighs as he opens the door and moves into the room.

"No" I say and push myself up "Not yet."

Emmett chuckles and sits at the end of the bed. "She was worried" he jerks his chin to the door and I frown.

"No need."

He shrugs "Try telling her that."

I sigh and look towards the window watching the sun as it slowly dips behind the city skyline.

"How long?"

I can hear his hesitation before he answers, "Five days."

I hum and nod. "Getting longer," I note.

His body jerks and snaps, "How can you be so calm about this?"

I turn to look at him.

"About what?" I ask.

"Dying!" he throws his hands into the air. "You're fucking dying and you don't give a shit."

"You risk dying every time you go into the eye," I point out.

"This isn't about me," he snaps.

"Why?" I look at the door and watch as Rosalie turns her back on us and walks away, flicks of blonde hair catching the dim lighted hallway lamps "I'm not leaving anything behind."

"You're leaving me behind," he growls.

"You'd survive without me," I say. "Walkers are in high demand, you'd be fine."

"This isn't about me being a Walker, Bella. You're my family, not my damn drug dealer," he shouts and I sigh.

"We die, Emmett, you said so yourself. We all die. Mine time is just coming quicker then we anticipated."

"I can't talk to you when you get like this" he shakes his head and pushes himself up. "Just do me a favour and stay in that damn bed and rest."

I shake my head and push myself up.

"I'll rest when I'm dead" I smile and his faces wrenches before he turns his back on me and leaves.

Sighing, I pull the clean clothes Rosalie left for me over my aching body and move through the doorway.

I can hear the shouts as they argue and I frown at myself.

Always screwing up their life.

Moving through the kitchen, I glance at date on the paper and frown.

"You weren't going to tell me, were you?" I mutter as the floorboards creak beneath their feet.

"No" he says and I nod.

I move to the door and slip my feet in a pair of boots, flicking the deadbolt; I glance over my shoulder at the couple.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

They nod and I step into the clear night.

_**Xxx**_

"Travel by light, travel by thunder, travel by wind, and be free" the words are spoken softly, from the mouth of a woman I once knew.

Her head is dipped and tears mar those sharp cheekbones.

Today the air sweeps in wailing gusts.

The trees groan and the leaves whistle and together they dance to a tear stained song.

My fingers burn and my knee shake as the people around me Write painful tempests.

The woman speaks more but the words mean so little.

And I can't pretend they matter to me.

I don't care what they have to say.

They are just words.

And they are nothing more.

She is gone. And no matter the sweet, the tearful, the angry words we spit she will still be dead.

"Alice was my Walker" I know the voice.

Hate the voice.

But I do not turn to watch Edward speak.

"She was beautiful" he pauses "Perfect."

I watch the sky shift, the clouds churning.

"The right kind of Walker. A grounder. But wild when it hit. She'd take it all and still want more."

My heart throbs in my chest.

"She was always looking for more…" the word fall into silence and I want to turn, to see his face, but I don't.

Won't.

"I don't know why" he starts again. "It's just who she is" he stumbles over the words. "Was." I picture him breathing as he shakes his head.

I push away his words, throw them away from my body.

I look around the plot. At the bent heads and crying faces and I need to leave.

Can't watch them lower her into the ground.

Can't watch them bury her.

Turning on my heels, I push my legs away from the black clad bodies.

I don't know if anyone notices me, and I don't care.

I said goodbye.

A very long time ago.

And now.

I twist my fingers and cut the lightening through the air.

Some people scream.

But I'm sure, she would have enjoyed it

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**a/n: that's it, if you liked it let me and tell me if I should continue. **

**If you are wondering:**

**Yes, I am still writing Day Walkers.**

**No, I do not know when the next chapter will be out. **

**Sorry guys, but school is shit crazy right now, but I swear I am writing them all still and they are currently in the works. I am really sorry for the long wait. Hope it's worth it when the time comes!**

**Lots of love to you all. **

**Massive hugs. **


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